MOTORBIKES: John Wheeler once tried his hand at being a motorcycye courier ... it was an eye-opener.
In his Emissions column recently, Kilian Doyle cast opprobrium on Dublin's motorcycle couriers. That he has not been challenged to a duel, courier satchels at 10 paces, is solely due to the fact that to be a courier one needs a sense of humour as much as a motorcycle.
Several years ago, having once been an Army despatch rider, I thought I'd try my hand at being a courier. I felt it couldn't be all that different. How wrong I was.
That was in the early 1990s when the courier "industry" was a cut-throat shambles, when admittedly there were more than a few "cowboy" outfits, when some riders were not properly insured.
That was a far past. The scene now is totally different. You simply can't get a job without proper insurance, loaded well above standard rates - and there's no escape from the Revenue Commissioners.
In my days as a courier instead of a nice simple "single package delivery" job, I discovered that I was expected to collect work from just about everywhere around Dublin and, meanwhile, drop off other packages and delivery while on route.
Heading out to Sandyford Industrial Estate trying to avoid being cut up by a Volvo Estate, word might come on the radio to collect something else in Dún Laoghaire going to the airport - and then make a pick-up in Rathfarnham for the IFSC.
Moments later the radio again: why wasn't the job I picked up in Blackrock on my way out not at the Four Courts yet? It wasn't uncommon to have 10 or 12 jobs in hand at any one time.
This organised chaos made for as stressful an occupation as you could wish. The customers, mostly large companies, insisted on the keenest possible price but they all expected a "premium" service. In London, couriers are a respected part of the commercial infrastructure and are paid three to four times the Dublin rate.
In the midst of all the chaos, you might get a call to collect blood from the Blood Bank and rush it to a hospital. When the controller added "take it straight to theatre" you knew this was for real and, sorry folks, rules and niceties went out of the window.
So the day would pass, with conflicting demands, trying to keep everything dry in the frequent downpours, trying to please everyone, riding for hours without the chance to grab a bite.
I did learn to get around pretty smartly, con brio you might say, or "making progress" as the police rider's motorcycle Roadcraft manual puts it, but always trying never to do any manoeuvre that would cause anyone else to decelerate, brake or swerve.
Perhaps we weren't always within the strict rigours of a 30 mph limit, same as everyone else. Somehow we always managed to get the work done, to satisfy most of the folk most of the time. I think I can count on the fingers of one hand when anyone said "thanks". Never did I seek, nor was I offered a tip.
True there were some tearaways, reckless idiots. You'll find them in any walk of life. They didn't last longer in this job than their counterparts would elsewhere.
To survive as a courier in Dublin's traffic is an exhilarating experience, surrounded as you are by drivers in their "armoured personnel carriers" a good third of whom haven't passed the driving test.
In my courier days I regarded it as the norm that there would be at least three serious attempts on my life before the often-missed lunch break. When it comes to razor-sharp observation, superb handling skills, encyclopaedic city knowledge and brilliant roadcraft, very, very few road users could begin to compete.
Their bikes might look a bit tatty, but so would yours if it was on the road eight to 10 hours a day, five or more days a week in all weathers.
Their dress code might not be the height of elegance, but that's only to be expected having faced into traffic fumes and vehicle spray all day.
*****
To put the theory that motorcycle couriers are reckless bikers to the test, we took two couriers for a test ride to see how they would measure up to the extremely high standards required of an "advanced rider". Both worked for Wheels Couriers and were chosen at random and without prior warning.
Neville Dunne has been a courier for seven years, covering over 220,000 working miles with no insurance claims. He scored an impressive 74.3 per cent on the standard assessment scale: this is a score that is very near to advanced level.
Paul Rowan has been 10 years in the business and, with close on 250,000 claims-free miles to his credit, scored 69.3 per cent. Very few who consider themselves good, safe road-users would be likely to achieve such results in a test.